


First Contact, In Parallel

by startabby



Series: The Big Short Stories [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 10:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby
Summary: One Shot: What if Martouf/Lantash from Stargate SG-1 met Chris Argent many years before the events of the Teen Wolf tv show.The Big Short Challenge Prompt: Kiss





	First Contact, In Parallel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prologue of sorts to a much larger fic I have been working on set during Teen Wolf canon playing on the fact that the same actor (JR Bourne) played both characters. The larger fic is still a work in progress.  
> I modified it slightly to fit the prompt for the Big Short Challenge on Rough Trade (http://www.roughtrade.org/)'s forum, which called for a 500-1000 word story given a one word prompt.

* * *

A scar bisected the terrain, a trail of dirt and debris kicked up as wide as a football field and over a mile in length. At the end of the trail, mostly buried under a large mound of debris, there stood a large metal object. Having a roughly pyramidal shape, the object was a flying craft of some kind; damaged by a rough landing.

From the woods that extended alongside the debris field, a man emerged. Tall and sparse with strikingly blue eyes, he was dressed for rough terrain in jeans and flannel with well-worn hiking boots. He bore a long hunting knife and a handgun and appeared well prepared to defend himself.

“What on earth,” the man muttered when he caught sight of the crashed vessel at the end of the debris field.

“Nothing for it, Chris,” he added, talking to himself as he moved forward. He drew his gun, keeping it in hand, as he approached the crash site.

As Chris neared the side of the vessel, a sliding door opened up, releasing a gust of air tinged with smoke. He stepped back at the sight for a moment before continuing towards the opening. With restraint borne of experience, he cautiously passed through the doorway and went inside.

Once inside Chris paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. The passageway in front of him has some internal lighting but he couldn’t identify a source for the illumination through the haze. The walls of the passage were golden in color and appeared metallic based on reflections from the sunlight that entered through the open door.

At first there was no sign of life, but as he peered through the haze Chris saw a man hobbling towards him. The man was clearly injured, either before or during the crash.

“It’s not safe to stay in the al’kesh,” the man coughed as he approached Chris.

In an uncharacteristic act of faith, Chris decided to help first and ask questions later. “Come on, let’s get you out then,” he replied as he put one arm around the man’s waist and helped him outside. Once they got far enough away from the crash to no longer breathe in the tainted air, Chris glanced over at his companion and froze in shock.

The stranger shared his face.

“Well, that explains more than it doesn’t,” the stranger murmured before slumping to the ground unconscious.

A short while later, the stranger woke. In that time, Chris had retrieved his pack from where he had stashed it behind the tree line and pulled out the first aid kit.

Ever blunt, when Chris saw that the man was awake he asked, “who are you and why do you have my face?”

“Charming,” the man muttered. “Nothing like you.”

Then he cleared his throat. “I am Martouf.” His eyes flashed gold and when he spoke again, it had a strange dual-toned sound, “and I am Lantash.”

Chris scrambled back, pulling out his gun and aiming it at the other.

“I guess I should have said, what are you?” he replied tersely. “The eyes make me want to say werewolf, but the voice doesn’t match.”

“Have you ever heard of the Goa’uld?” Martouf asked. “And is this not the planet of the Tau’ri?”

Chris frowned. “Ghoul? Wait… planet? Are you saying that plane over there is actually a space ship?”

Martouf went on to explain that he was really an alien, or at least a human from another planet and he had a real alien symbiont sharing space in his brain. According to Martouf, he and the symbiont, Lantash, were something called Tok’ra, which meant that they were spies who fought against the evil symbionts (or Goa’uld) that wanted to enslave the Earth and every other planet in the galaxy.

“But why do we share a face?” Chris asked.

Martouf took a deep breath, but before he could answer, his body did this weird phasing thing where it moved without moving. As it did so, Chris could almost see the symbiont snake coiled around his spine, which didn’t move when Martouf did.

“That is an interesting question. I believe that Martouf and I are not only from another planet, but we are also from another universe.” This time the speaker was clearly Lantash, voice and all.

“What you just saw was the early stages of what happens when a person from one universe enters another one where they are already alive. It is called Entropic Cascade Failure.” Lantash eyed Chris, and then continued, “and it will kill my host.”

Despite only knowing the pair for a short time, Chris could already tell when they switched gears. Martouf was clearly the one who spoke next. “There’s nothing anyone can do,” he explained as he winced in pain. “If you are alive, then I will die.”

“And you expect me to fix that?” Chris said with a frown.

“NO!” came the response from both host and symbiont.

“However, I ask that you consider taking Lantash in my place. He is not experiencing the same symptoms so his counterpart must either not exist or have already died here.”

Chris thought for a long moment. As a hunter, he’d been curious about what it might be like to be more than human, despite the prejudice. Apparently, another version of him had decided that Lantash was worth the risk.

“All right, I’ll take your partner,” Chris agreed reluctantly. “He shouldn’t have to die just because we’re matched.”

“Thank you,” Martouf said, struggling to take a deep breath. “He’s a good man, even if he’s not actually a man.” Pausing for a moment, he winced, and then continued. “I hope that you two will be good companions in the future.”

With a nod, Chris asked, “how do we do this?”

“That part’s simple. All it takes is a kiss.”

 


End file.
